


For Clara

by infinite_regress



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Passion, Romance, fields of gold, powerful love, whouffaldi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2017-11-30
Packaged: 2019-02-08 20:57:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12872874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infinite_regress/pseuds/infinite_regress
Summary: Whouffaldi Fields of Gold tribute





	For Clara

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tounknowndestinations (Azalays)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azalays/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Fields of Gold](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/342498) by Sting. 



He takes her hand as they walk among the lonely fields, the sun bathing the heads of barley in a golden glow, reflecting the warm tones of her skin and the brightness of her eyes. He wonders if she knows what’s in his hearts? Sometimes he thinks she must know. How could she not? Yet other times he’s so afraid he fears the universe will crush him with the weight of prophecy, and her mortality, and his agelessness. Yet here they are, together, hand in hand, and the evening is warm and she’s smiling, making his hearts leap and flutter. 

He is the sun, a jealous lover, wanting to claim her yet needing her to claim him first because he is rage and fire and ice and he can not ask her to give herself up for him. Yet in her arms he’s a soft delicate thing, vulnerable in a way he loathes and relishes in equal measure. For her, he wants to be better and get things right. For Clara.

They walk further, and she is the whole world. All worlds.

Shall we sit, she finally asks, drawing him down. They rest on a lush green bank in the evening sun, gazing across the golden fields, watching the barley ripple as the west wind blows, mesmerised by the mayflies dancing and the lone call of a chetwin, and he thinks, by each other. A small eternity passes with his hearts held lightly in her hands.

Then she is looking at him, into him, seeing him, and it is inescapable, exhilarating, terrifying, agony. There's no where else he’d rather be. 

Will you stay with me, she finally whispers, will you be my love? Here among the fields of barley? And among the stars, and the wild places of the universe? I know I’m fleeting and you are forever. I know my life will blink out, and it’s not fair, but I can do no other but love you, she says, falling in his arms, her hair shining lose about her shoulders, her smile at last, under his lips, her body moving for him, under him, with him. 

He never makes promises lightly, but this one he swears he won’t break; in the days we have left, we will walk in fields of gold. 

And he knows that when the west wind moves,

and all that's left of his Clara is the story he's told

he’ll cherish her still

and remember those days when they walked in fields of gold.


End file.
